


White Sand Sunsets

by Toastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Allusion, F/M, Fluff, New Beginnings, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 19:24:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10497876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toastiel/pseuds/Toastiel
Summary: Everyone deserves a second chance. Donna just never expected her’s to start like this.





	

She’s come to expect a lot of things in her time as a hunter, from running into a vampire in the middle of nowhere to getting cornered by demons in a room full of people. She never bothered to think that this might be one of those things, but here she is, standing barefoot on a white sand beach with warm waves crashing over her ankles. The sun is warm against her skin, still dry and cold from the brutal winter they were experiencing back in Kansas, and a salty breeze caught her curls and gently tossed them about her shoulders. 

Donna glances over her shoulder, a smile dancing on her chapped lips. 

There he is, leaning so casually against a palm tree, not caring that he looks so tiny next to the towering flora. His blue eyes sparkle in the setting sunlight and his smile never fades. He’s looking at her again, the way he had been before, like she’s some secret treasure he’s discovered. She feels her cheeks warm and looks away.

Why were they here? 

Why was he doing this?

Why did he care?

Why did she?

So many questions run through her mind, and Donna can’t seem to focus on any one in particular. She’s so wrapped up in her own head that she never notices him moving towards her, never hears his feather light footsteps against the shifting sands. She doesn’t even know he’s there until he’s right behind her, his breath tickling the back of her neck as his hands rise up to rest against her shoulders.

She’s rather proud of herself for not jumping out of her own skin when he whispers against her ear. 

“Stop.”

She tries to turn, to give him a questioning look, but she can’t. 

She doesn’t need to.

“You’re thinking too loud. Stop. Just...enjoy it.”

“But-”

“Shhh.” He shushes her, and suddenly she feels nothing but the quiet tranquility of the world around them. 

It doesn’t last as long as she’d like. 

He’s taking her hand and guiding her towards the ocean, and for once in her life, Donna doesn’t fight. What’s the point? He’s God. Better still, he’s Chuck, and she knows she can’t fight him no matter how hard she tries. She swallows, brown eyes locking with crystal blue, and there’s that look again. 

“I thought we could both use this,” He gives her one of his crooked grins and pulls her further still into the waves. They’re crashing against her hips now, and the sand is constantly shifting beneath her feet. 

“A vacation?”

He laughs, half-nodding. “In a way, I suppose.”

The water is up to her waist now, but it’s calm and still, like it’s been put on pause. She turns her eyes away from him for a moment to look at the rest of the scene. Everything is calm. She doesn’t have time to think much about it, though. The second their eyes meet again, they’re both being pushed beneath the surface by a forceful wave. 

They come up, sputtering and pulling in lungfuls of air. She’s soaked through now, she notes, but she’s not even a little bit upset by it. She barely has time to catch her breath before she’s losing it again. 

His kisses are not what she expects. They’re more, better, perfect. His lips are warm, his hands gentle as they tangle in her wet locks, and suddenly she’s feeling everything she’s ever wanted him to feel for her in a way she’s never felt before. 

“Everyone deserves the chance to start over,” he whispers as he pulls back. “Start over with me?”

How’s she ever supposed to say no to him? Even if she wanted to, those big, soulful eyes of his wouldn’t let her. Donna smiled softly at him as she ran the pad of her thumb over the grey patch of stubble in his beard. She loves that grey patch, she muses as she leans in to press her lips to his once more. 

“All ya had to do was ask,” She mutters, her lips a hair’s breadth from his.


End file.
